


(Never) more than friends.

by lm_xzy



Category: Heaven Official's Blessing, 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But this should be trigger free, Childhood Friends, Comfort, Except for mentions of food, Friend's Day, Heartbreak, I forgot how to tag, M/M, One-sided pining, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:41:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29375832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lm_xzy/pseuds/lm_xzy
Summary: Mu Qing is brokenhearted, disheveled, pitifuland cuteand Feng Xin hasnothad enough.
Relationships: Fēng Xìn/Mù Qíng
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	(Never) more than friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Where I live, Valentine's Day is actually called 'Friend's Day' instead, and obviously I had to write a FengQing au about that... So here's a soft little gift to all FengQing friends. Hope you enjoy, and happy Friend's Day everyone ♡
> 
> . . . 

Why do we celebrate the oh-so-holy-day of romance, Valentine’s Day? Arguably originating from several rather differing sagas of a man called Valentine, however none with bulletproof evidence, making him an unsolved mystery, plausibly even a mere fraud. 

One was said to be a martyr, prosecuted for having secretly and illegally married soldiers and their sweethearts. The other is less heartfelt, taking root from a festival where women were married off by the draw of a lottery. And let’s not forget the love letter to the jailer’s daughter, signed _‘Your Valentine’_ , whatever the story behind that is.

But what does history matter when it is now but a victorious day for the capitalistic illusion, when both love-birds as well as those brokenhearted altogether spend tens of billions to dote on their significant other (or to comfort their lonesome self) like any other day the person would be less significant. 

Anyways… Mu Qing used to be the former, spending an unnecessary amount on his boyfriend on this special day, treating the day like a lovers holiday (like any other holiday really, when somehow money and presents are supposed to show your gratitude), but today is merely a Sunday like any other and Mu Qing is buried deep into the couch, wallowing in the pitiful tears of a stubbornly unhealing heart. 

There’s a loud knocking at the door, too loud, even louder in its familiarity - not now, not today. Mu Qing doesn’t flinch, motionless on the couch, eyes unfocusedly watching whatever rom-com show is rerunning for the nth time.

“-the fuck, can’t you open the door when someone’s knocking.” Feng Xin stomps in loudly, a heavy bag in his hand, a keychain in the other.

“Maybe I didn’t want to open the door to whoever was standing outside…” Mu Qing mumbles judgingly, laying deeper into the couch. “So why are- no, _how_ are you barging into my home like you own it?” 

Even at this intruder (they are really friends, have been for already two decades) Mu Qing doesn’t budge, body twisted into an ergonomic nightmare hid under a nest of blankets and pillows, eyes half-lidded in the direction of the screen, not clear whether his soul has already left that pathetic being or still stuck under the heavy weight of a shattered heart… 

Feng Xin can’t look too long - he wants to say it’s repulsive to see Mu Qing so disheveled, but deep inside digs a ghosting pain that he however decidedly ignores - he swallows whatever nasty comment he usually presents by nature and settles for something simpler. 

“I have your sparekey, remember.”

“It’s only for emergencies!” It's not much of Mu Qing that can be seen, but enough to shine through his grumpy disapproval.

Feng Xin muffles an urge to chuckle. _So cute!_ The treacherous thought makes a quick intrusion into Feng Xin’s mind before it disappears like nothing.

“This _is_ an emergency - look at you. Dirty, unkempt, you look like a swollen pufferfish. What a sad sight. No wonder you’re single.” Feng Xin gives off another disapproving look that still manages to hide a hint of fondness. “Listen up, loser - it’s been already seven fucking months since Pei M- since that fucker, broke up with you, so please stop moping and get a grip of yourself!”

_He’s an idiot._ Feng Xin always thought that of Pei Ming. The way he was almost possessive yet seldom present. And that slanted smile and hungrily glazed eyes, provoking a disgusted shudder from Feng Xin by the mere thought of it now - it’s like the man knows he’s the most fuckable man and still wants to show it off even more… 

“I can mope however long I want… now get out.” Finally Mu Qing shoots a glare in his direction; it’s filled with tired irritation at his uninvited guest (friend, they are friends, life-long friends).

“No. I’m here to celebrate.” Feng Xin is determinedly headed to the kitchen, making himself very much at home, successfully ignoring the complaints of the host (again, friends). _I’m here to save your sorry ass._ Though that part Feng Xin leaves to his own thoughts only. 

“… it’s none of our birthdays?” A miniscule tone of curiosity can’t help but sip through Mu Qing’s tone, his eyes lingering in the direction Feng Xin went. 

“I know.” Feng Xin has to raise his voice to be heard to the other room; clearly frustrated, but also oddly cheery (though that’s Feng Xin in a nutshell). “But I know you know it’s Valentine’s Day today and what’s more, I know you have planned to stuff your face with ice cream until you feel nauseous, after which you’re gonna cry yourself to sleep and on the cherry on top you’re probably gonna text Pei Ming something stupid you’ll definitely regret.” _And maybe I want to spend Valentine's with you for once._ Feng Xin chokes that thought before it can surface further - it's merely a Sunday like any other, he reminds himself. 

A faint disgruntled groan is heard from the living room before Mu Qing also raises his voice. “So, what do you care?”

_I care for you, ok. What’s so wrong about that?_ Feng Xin should be saying - desperately _wants_ to say - but never that he would say such private thoughts out loud. 

“I- I don’t… you stink. Take a shower - really, when was the last time you washed your hair? - while I’ll make you a proper dinner, something that isn’t filled with saturated fats and excessive amounts of salt or sugar and…” Feng Xin gapes at the ghastly empty fridge which renders him speechless. “We’re going shopping tomorrow.”

Feng Xin didn’t mean to say that out loud and in fact it comes out closer to a whisper, so maybe Mu Qing didn’t hear, maybe Feng Xin simply can crash his place again tomorrow, bringing along actual nutrient food that isn’t instant ramen or vacuum packed lunchboxes. Mu Qing has no say, Feng Xin decides. 

“Whatever.” Mu Qing can be heard murmuring bitterly - and whether it’s to comment on the shower or shopping or both is left to own interpretation.

Nevertheless, after a half-protesting minute he obediently heads to the shower, though making sure not to seem too willing - sighing loudly, dragging his feet, closing the door a little too loudly. This time Feng Xin can’t stifle his laugh - _So childish._ That thought is a little too tender to be purely judging. 

Mu Qing takes his good time in the shower - Feng Xin has time to pre-cook the vegetables, mash and heat it into a soup, even throw a batch of homemade bread in the oven to go along - and Feng Xin is almost getting nervous enough to run into the bathroom when Mu Qing finally emerges. 

Now dressed in barely a towel around his hips, his pale skin adorned by glistening water drops reflecting in the luminescent light now that outside is already dark. And his usual mane of hair sleekly weighed down by the remaining water, pasted along his distinctly framed spine, reaching almost down to the edge of the towel. Mu Qing rarely wears his hair open, mostly always thrown into an untamed bun. It’s… 

It’s not the first time Feng Xin witness his friend with hair undone and half-naked like this (they’ve seen each other completely naked, after all), yet he can’t help to forcibly avert his eyes after having glanced for three seconds too long. 

“Put on some clothes. Dinner is ready.” Feng Xin clears his throat and manages to sound almost commanding. _How can such a negligent person still look that fit?_ The thought pops uninvitedly into Feng Xin’s conflicted mind. 

Again, Mu Qing complies - and perhaps Feng Xin is a little sour that the beautifully chiseled chest is covered again, but most likely Feng Xin will pretend that thought isn’t there. Feng Xin has to hastily explain the ‘detoxing’ and ‘calming’ effects of hot vegetable soup when Mu Qing makes it clear he’s not too overjoyed by tonight's menu. Mu Qing merely hums in reply and never that he will admit that it actually tastes nice. 

“You know it’s rude to choose your phone over an actual human being sitting in front of you.” Feng Xin is about to ask what’s so interesting when he realizes. “Don’t fucking tell me you’ve already texted Pei Ming something?”

“I can do whatever I want.” Mu Qing doesn’t deny Feng Xin’s accusation, however he does put away the phone.

“The hell, Mu Qing? ‘Ooh honey, I miss you so, please come back to me, I’ll kiss your feet for the rest of my life’.” Feng Xin mocks in a ridiculously coy voice. 

“Shut up. Disgusting. And no. I only reminded him that Manchester is playing tonight.” Mu Qing defends himself. 

Feng Xin has to take several calming breaths before he can speak again. “...That’s even worse. What the actual fuck Mu Qing? You hate sports, especially ones where snobby boys compete in nothing but who can model the most convincing fake-cry.”

“Pei Ming likes soccer.” Mu Qing explains, deaf to how pitiful his own excuse truly is. 

Feng Xin chooses to drop the matter. That’s what Feng Xin hated most about Pei Ming, how he managed to change Mu Qing to something he isn’t. _You don’t have to change yourself for a man, Mu Qing. You’re perfect as you are._ It’s not the first time Feng Xin has that thought, but like before, he let's is be without a word.

After the soup dinner - also Feng Xin ended up picking up his phone to distract his enraged mind - they make themselves comfortable on the couch, leaving the kitchen at it is.

_Yes, I better come back tomorrow._ Adding to the grocery shopping, Feng Xin remembers to make note of the dirty dishes too, worried his friend will leave them untouched for a week or more otherwise. 

Between the sound from the TV and their munching mouths mindlessly chewing on chocolates - after all, Mu Qing had already bought some comforts for the night, and he manages to convince Feng Xin (Feng Xin can’t say no to Mu Qing) it’s healthier to share them instead of eating all alone - they are left to silence.

Feng Xin isn’t one to easily remain quiet, naturally very talkative (too talkative, according to a certain someone), however with Mu Qing it’s okay - as long as it’s with Mu Qing, Feng Xin is almost comfortable staying in silence. 

They’ve been friends for a looong time - they were so little when they first met that Mu Qing couldn’t even say Feng Xin properly but called him ‘In-in’ instead (and Mu Qing hates to be reminded of that, but that doesn’t stop Feng Xin). Both will frown and refute whenever someone calls them inseparable, but the truth is, they’re rarely too far or long away from each other to be called anything else than that. 

“I don’t understand… how he just can move on like that.” Strangely it’s Mu Qing to first break the silence.

“That’s not moving on, it’s cheating!” Feng Xin exclaims in disbelief, licking remains of chocolate off his pristinely white teeth. 

“He’s cheating? How do you know?” Mu Qing doesn’t sound as convinced, rather nearly panicked, by the other’s established reason. 

Feng Xin sounds just as disbelieving, almost angry. “Ehm… his girlfriend just met his wife? Isn’t that prime evidence of cheating?”

“Who- Wait, what are you talking about?” Mu Qing glances confusedly at his friend beside him. 

For a heartbeat Feng Xin forgets everything, losing composure at the smudge of chocolate at the edge of Mu Qing's lips. He wants to touch it - but doesn't. 

“What are _you_ talking about? I’m obviously talking… have you even made notice there’s a movie playing on that screen? Yesh…” Feng Xin sighs exaggeratedly, a little embarrassed how invested he had found himself in the silly movie (a little warm on the cheeks, too, blame the chocolate and luscious lips). He also knows all too well what’s really going on, and however much he would prefer not to go there, Feng Xin does it for his friend (for _Mu Qing_ ). “Pei Ming’s got a new boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” Mu Qing sighs in a queued defeat. “And I just heard he moved in with Shi Wudu. But I don’t understand… Why was he so insistent to live separately with me who he dated for years but can move in with a stranger after merely a few months?”

Three and a half years, close to four - that's how long Feng Xin had to listen to Mu Qing dream of the day he'd move in with Pei Ming. For almost four years, Feng Xin felt a rising jealousy every time the matter was brought up. 

“Shi Wudu, as in the eldest son of Shi Enterprises? Shi Wudu, as that multimillionaire? Holy fuck - Pei Ming that bastard leveled up.” Feng Xin blurts out in astoundment - and maybe his excitement is a little exaggerated, rather misplaced too, but it can’t be helped.

“Mhm, thanks. Not helping.” Mu Qing rolls his eyes to the back of his head and Feng Xin is forced to bite down a threatening smile - it’s those little things that Mu Qing does… . 

“Oh, sorry, I just-” Feng Xin near to chokes out, and then he maybe really chokes, because-

“Am I really that undesirable?”

The uncharacteristically beaten note to Mu Qing’s voice takes an indescribably grip of Feng Xin’s heart. _I will fight that Shi Wudu, and then I’ll hang Pei Min by the balls._ For once Feng Xin doesn’t silence his thoughts too hastily. 

He’s always known Mu Qing as unbudging, headstrong, confident - but he also knows Mu Qing well enough to have witnessed his insecurities and self-doubt that creeps out a little too easily. And Feng Xin just _hates_ it, because whatever he says (although he often doesn’t say anything) Mu Qing won’t believe him (and maybe that’s why Feng Xin seldom says anything). 

“No- I… That’s not what I meant. You, what he’s got in money, you’ve got in heart.” It’s the closest to an honest comfort Feng Xin can come up with _. It’s Pei Ming’s loss,_ Feng Xin thinks to himself, and for once he’s close to say it out loud, though not close enough. 

“How do you know? You’ve never even met that man.”

“Well I know you, so I think that’s enough.” _\- No one compares to you_ , Feng Xin’s unwanted thoughts sneak up again only to swiftly be repressed away. Now is not the time - if ever?

“Hm… Whatever.”

It’s a whatever that really says - _I’m not good enough_ \- and Feng Xin desperately wants to shut it up and wash away that sorrowful glimpse resting on the edge of Mu Qing’s expression. 

Feng Xin has always hated seeing his friend sad, or hurt, or in pain. And it’s just not any friend, it’s _Mu Qing_ , and like so often, Feng Xin doesn’t know what to do (ok maybe deep inside he actually knows, but those are feelings he’s not ready to deal with yet). 

The TV is showing romance movies back to back throughout the night and the two end up watching another, whether they really want it or not, simply just because. Though Mu Qing falls asleep halfway, nestled in his sad little fortress, breath evening out into a calm beat like a purring kitten. Feng Xin represses the urge to caress his soft cheek - he looks so unguarded, fragile. 

“Hmm?” Mu Qing mumbles sleepily, eyes a little puffed and disoriented. 

“You shouldn’t sleep on the couch.” And if the word ‘cute’ doesn’t fly through Feng Xin’s mind… no, it does, because Mu Qing looks so freaking adorable in this carefree sleepy state. “It’s getting late, I should prob-”

“No.” Mu Qing protestingly interrupts, his sleepiness instantly washed away and Feng Xin wonders if Mu Qing might not in fact be sleeping still.

“Huh?” 

“Can you… stay over?” Mu Qing can’t look at Feng Xin, but Feng Xin can’t look anywhere else but Mu Qing. “Please.”

It’s dangerous how easy it is for Feng Xin to say yes to Mu Qing, because Mu Qing doesn’t even _know_.

“Oh… sure. Yeah.” 

And at that Mu Qing goes on like nothing to complete his nightly routine - teeth, face, hair, keeping it simple yet meticulous - leaving Feng Xin alone to the night. Feng Xin turns off the remaining lights, drops off most of his clothes, and makes himself comfortable on the couch. 

There’s already the pillow and blanket left by Mu Qing’s little nest. And perhaps no one will notice if Feng Xin takes a little sniff of the pillow, which smells exactly like Mu Qing - apricot scented wash gel mixed with a metallic hint, likely rubbed off from all the piercings filling his sharp earlobes. ‘Home’ and ‘love’ crash through Feng Xin’s mind though he pretends not to hear it.

He’s deep in thought when approaching footsteps make him jerk up to a sitting position, facing the tall but slender figure in the dark. Feng Xin would recognize that form anywhere - sculpted almost to symmetry, long and lean yet with a strikingly inviting curve. 

“Do you- I… You should- you sleep in my bed.” Mu Qing lightly stumbles over his words - if it’s tiredness or embarrassment, Feng Xin decides to leave it be. 

“No, no. I'm fine on the couch.” Feng Xin reassures surely. “However pathetic you are, I can’t let you sleep on the couch in your own home.” He attempts a lighthearted joke, not his strong suit however - though for once Mu Qing seems to overlook it. 

“No, I… I am telling you to sleep with me.”

And even in this dim light, Feng Xin swears he can see a pretty pink blush cover Mu Qing’s tired cheeks, and that does some unspeakable things to Feng Xin’s heart, and to be fair, his cheeks too would be flushed red if it wasn’t for his covering golden tan. 

“W-with, sleep with you?”

“Not like that!” Mu Qing hurriedly corrects himself and Feng Xin thinks it’s the sweetest thing how Mu Qing isn’t the smoothest with words, often sending him into predicaments like this (which Feng Xin loves to tease about, too), leaving him to awkwardly clarify himself in a blushing hurry. “Idiot. You said you’d stop me from being sad, and I’m…

“Alright, alright. You don’t have to say more.” For some reason Feng Xin feels maybe it actually is now or never (at least definitely not a time to test Mu Qing’s infamously thin patience). 

Without further ado - perhaps a little hurried, before either one backs out - the two head into Mu Qing’s bedroom. Feng Xin lays by the wall, Mu Qing on the outer side. It’s a comfortably 120 centimeter wide bed, however for two grownup men, it is strangely small. Now both dressed in solely boxers, Feng Xin becomes alarmingly aware of the amount of bare skin presented in this situation.

_It’s now or never._

“Wh… what are y-you doing?” Mu Qing stiffens in the sudden and unfamiliar embrace (this is obviously not the first time two life-long friends share this light intimacy).

Feng Xin isn’t much more relaxed, but he’s unbudging in his act, his arms awkwardly but firmly around Mu Qing. “I’m stopping you from being sad, like you said.”

“…Oh.” 

Strangely Mu Qing doesn’t sound annoyed or mad, but rather accepting, if not even grateful? And Feng Xin feels a dangerous warmth seep in when Mu Qing scoots a little closer, making himself comfortable in those big arms, that now every muscle of his back presses into Feng Xin’s bare stomach. 

“Feng Xin?”

“Mhm, sleep now.” Feng Xin is absolutely certain Mu Qing can hear his rampant heart and he tries his utmost to calm it down - which Mu Qing’s drowsily low voice isn’t helping at all!

“You’re not leaving me, are you?”

Well that definitely works to make Feng Xin’s heart stop at least for a second.

“… Never.” Feng Xin subconsciously tightens his hold, breathing in the comfortingly familiar smell of Mu Qing. “You’ll always have me.” _If you’ll only have me too._ The thought echoes in an unwelcomed aftermath which he painingly shuts down.

There follows a silence after that and Feng Xin wonders whether his answer wasn’t enough, or maybe Mu Qing only fell asleep already. He almost prays for the latter. 

_I could never leave you. I will never leave you._

“Ok. Good. Goodnight.” Mu Qing’s softened voice finally sounds.

“Goodnight.” Feng Xin repeats; still able to read the disbelief in Mu Qing’s voice, however for tonight he’ll leave it be, letting instead the warmth of his body and tightened embrace speak every word he has ever wanted to say. Maybe there will be a day when he can actually says all that in words too. 

  
  
  



End file.
